


Subversion

by HPFandom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, Drug Use, Explicit Language, F/M, M/M, Mpreg, Out of Character, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-04-07
Updated: 2006-04-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 23:32:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,476
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10175102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HPFandom_archivist/pseuds/HPFandom_archivist
Summary: AU. LV/HP. The War has dragged on for 5 years.  The Light is beginning to lose hope and the Death Eaters are growing stronger with every year. Voldemort has a spy within the very heart of the Order of the Phoenix. His name? Harry Potter...Please check for other warnings inside!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from SeparatriX, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [HP Fandom](http://fanlore.org/wiki/HP_Fandom_\(archive\)), which was closed for health and financial reasons. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in August 2016. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [HP Fandom collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hpfandom/profile).

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or co. they are owned by JK Rowling, Warner Bros and her publishing co. They own the characters, I own this particular plot. I’m not making any money off of this, no malice intended, no infringement intended and so on etc. Also, if this is similar to any other fanfics, it was not intentional. As per usual, any original characters, theories about magic and anything not already known to JKR’s HP world or general fandom is mine. Please ask before borrowing.

Warnings: Ambiguous Consent, Graphic Sex, Toys, Torture, Death, Drugs, Language, mpreg and yes before I forget…SLASH, which for the uninitiated is male on male sex! 

If any of the above squick you, please save me and everyone else a flaming review and hit the back button and find something better suited to your tastes. No one’s forcing you to read this, don’t like it then don’t read it! 

**Spoiler Alert!** There are some major spoilers for HBP though this fic doesn’t exactly follow HBP. The person who died in HBP is quite alive in this fic for one.

Genre: Angst, Drama, Action/Adventure

Pairing: HP/LV, HP/OMC

Beta: Thanks to RandomDispatcher for the Beta, this wouldn’t be as good without your input!

A/N: This is a short chaptered novella for Ryokoshiana. I know it’s late but hopefully it was worth the wait? :P

Required Fic elements:  
1) HP/LV  
2) A revelation to the Light  
3) The Light hates and pities Harry based on said revelation  
4) Dumbledore is alive

Text Formatting: 

‘Character thoughts’  
 **Emphasis, Article Heading**  
 _Foreign words, spells, letters, media text (newspaper/books)_  
\- _Parseltongue_ -

* * *

  
**Subversion**

By: SheWolfe7

* * *

Chapter One:  
Perseverance

* * *

**He** waits for him in his dreams.

Strips him bare of all the masks he’s forced to wear, all the roles he must play.

Yet… **He** plays him best of all and no one suspects that the traitor they look for is indeed the one that is their last hope. It was planned that way but then, even **He** didn’t know what it would cost him. Some would say it was a small price to pay and others would claim it was a weakness, one that could destroy him, **He** who would conquer the world and re-make it to fit his vision. 

No one knows the balance has shifted. No one knows that their Savior is slipping away, drowning in forced passion and the burden of his involuntary treachery. 

No one knows but it’s only a matter of time…and **He** has plenty.

* * *

Outwardly he is strong, collected and ready to do whatever is necessary to save the Wizarding World. Inwardly he is slowly dying; sinking into a Hell created by the hapless thousands who are expecting him to save their decaying way of life. They wanted a Savior, some holier-than-thou being to rescue them from the shadow creatures in the night. Harry was neither of those things, despite the hopes or slurs of others. He was fully human, quick to anger and as fallible as the next teenager. In the eyes of the Wizarding World, he was their last hope and their Savior. 

‘It is little wonder,’ Harry mused to himself, ‘that my hair has already begun to whiten. I’m due to have an ulcer by the time I turn twenty-five…if I live that long anyway.’ 

But that voice, the one Harry thought he had shut out permanently, slipped through his Occulmency shields. Hissing softly, her words trickled into his awareness. - _Master will not kill you…you are too valuable._ \- 

Harry froze in place and then in a flurry of motion, found her presence and shoved it out of the protected portion of his mind, what little was left he could call his own. As he scrambled back into his own mind, he could feel **His** amused presence and knew that though **He** would leave him alone now, it would be a completely different story tonight. Heart hammering with dread, Harry realized that today was not an ordinary day. Tonight was the one night out of the month that he was to meet **Him** in person. On this day even **He** could afford to give Harry the illusion of freedom.

Shuddering partly in dismay at what would happen tonight and partly in anticipation, Harry attempted to put the thought out of his mind for the time being. Continuing on his way, he climbed the staircase and headed into the Master Bedroom. It had been a fucking long night and Harry wanted nothing more than to sleep but he didn’t dare, especially now after that little incident. To sleep now would be just asking for **Him** to pay an early visit and show Harry just how much freedom he actually had. Sleep was out of the question so he would do the next best thing; take a long, relaxing bath. 

Turning to the left once he reached the top of the staircase, Harry headed down the hall towards the massive Master Bedroom. When he had turned seventeen, he had contracted a Wizarding Architect to draw up new plans for a house at Godric’s Hollow. By the time he had returned to Hogwarts for this Seventh Year, the builders had already begun construction on Potter Cottage as Harry referred to his main residence. It was true that the Potters were a wealthy family, with many properties scattered throughout Britain and the world, but Harry preferred to live here in Godric’s Hollow. Of all the properties he owned, it was the simplest being a two-story, four-bedroom house. 

Pushing the doors open to the Master Bedroom, Harry walked into the large, brightly-lit room. It was decorated in slate blue with black accents, the furniture made of ebony. Directly in front of him was a large, canopied four poster bed placed on a two-foot high dais. Windows flanked the massive bed, the bluish-gray curtains blocking out most of the light that poured through the huge rectangular windows. To the left of the doorway was a small sitting area, consisting of a few plush loveseats and armchairs, a coffee table and some end tables. To his immediate right, next to the wall by the door was an extensive Muggle-made, Wizarding Charmed stereo system. On the right wall, near the corner of the room was a large fireplace, pictures of his friends placed on the ebony mantle. 

Noting absently that his plants seemed to be well cared for, Harry turned to the left of the room and walked past the large walk in closet, heading for the bathroom directly ahead. The bathroom had been done in delicate white marble with lapis lazuli accents along the borders at the top and bottom of the walls. The loo was directly to the right of the doorway, a large vanity counter, and sink on the other side of the loo. An eight-head shower stall was arranged against the wall to his immediate left, the doors made of platinum and crystal glass. 

Walking further into the room, Harry waved his wand, turning on the taps of the colossal sunken bathtub that he cheerfully had all to himself. The dimensions of said sunken bathtub were the size of the pools Muggle homeowners could only hope to have, if they had enough property. Suffice to say his Aunt and Uncle wouldn't have been able to fit a luxury item like a pool, especially one the size of his bathtub, in the backyard of 4 Privet Drive. Once the taps had been turned on and the bathtub began to fill, Harry began stripping out of his clothes tossing the dirty, bloodstained clothing into a hamper arranged against the middle of the left wall. Next to it was a large metal cabinet, containing towels, toiletries, bath salts, bubble bath, spare toothbrushes and combs etc. Picking out a large fluffy gray towel and a large navy blue bathrobe, Harry set the items on the edge of the sunken bathtub. 

Ignoring the commentary from his wall length mirror (arranged in the space between the cabinet and tub) Harry took a seat on the edge of the tub and contemplated the state of his life. The War had been going on for nearly 5 years now, seemingly with no resolution in sight. Harry, however, knew differently though and cursed himself vehemently for being the person that would single-handedly bring down the Light. If he could have killed himself, he would have already done so happily but He had long since found ways to keep him in line. Harry’s life was meaningless at this point; he was a failure to the Light and nothing more than a toy to Voldemort. 

\- _Never a toy…Master’s mate…_ \- 

Harry shuddered slightly, panicking. ‘How is she reaching me? I’ve closed my shields so tightly no one should be able to reach me! Unless…’ Harry had no sooner finished his thought than he felt a slight shift in the air of the bathroom. The scent of burnt jasmine flowed over his skin and before he could attempt to grab his wand from its place on a nearby cabinet shelf, a rough hand grabbed his wrist. Swallowing, Harry slowly turned his head to the side and looked into the glowing orange eyes of the Djinn Ember. 

“Chosen…so good to see you again,” The Djinn commented, lips curving into a wicked, knowing smile. “Why, if I didn’t know you better than you know yourself, I’d have thought you were less than thrilled to see me.”

Harry’s eyes widened as the Djinn leaned closer to him, until their faces were mere inches apart. Ember had glowing tanned skin, short spiky golden hair streaked with crimson and orange. His eyes glowed with a strange, rapturous light that always caused the unfortunates who crossed his path to be drawn to stare into those ancient knowing eyes.

The Djinn’s smile turned into a predatory smirk and its orange eyes seemed to burn. “You wouldn’t want to make me feel unwelcome now would you, my little fireflower? This is our last meeting after all.” 

Heat surged along his wrist, igniting an all too familiar and unwanted fire within him. Desire, that ever-hungry mistress, pulsed through his body and a pool of liquid heat began to settle below his belly. Moaning softly as the grip around his wrist tightened, Harry’s chin was forced up by a rough hand. 

“Always ready to please aren’t you, Chosen.” Ember commented slyly, bending down and laying claim to Harry’s parted lips. 

Gasping at the fiery kiss, Harry did not resist as a tongue plunged into his mouth. Hot hands pulled his unresisting body closer to that column of strong, heated flesh. Harry closed his eyes, wanting to block this moment out as he had all the other times Ember paid him a visit. Like Voldemort, the Djinn could summon Harry to attend to his needs once a month. Though Harry would rather not be indebted to attend both, even though Voldemort was his enemy, having sex with the Dark Lord was less painful and if it was possible, less demeaning. Coupling with a Djinn was not exactly what one could call pleasant. They weren’t creatures of this world after all and a human body, even one that pulsed with Magic, was frail in comparison to a Djinn. 

Brought out of his deep contemplation by the sharp, burning pain of Ember sliding into him, without preparations as the Djinn preferred it. Harry’s eyes snapped open just as he was slammed up against the mirror. 

“Awake are we my little fireflower? How good of you to be here with me…on the occasion of our last dance,” Ember replied grinning as he began thrusting, rough and fast. 

Biting his lip from the searing pain, Harry’s eyes began to water as he let out involuntary mewls in response to each thrust. 

Ember groaned with pleasure, fucking his fireflower was so much better than the other Djinns, even his beloved Sprite. Each thrust was paradise, every mewl of pain like the uplifting song of a Phoenix and he could never get enough of the boy’s blood and tears. Leaning forward, the Djinn lapped at the crystal tear tracks on his fireflower’s face. Now if he could have **this** every night for the rest of eternity, he would be more than happy to do whatever was necessary! 

Unfortunately this would be the last time he would get to have his fireflower. It was rather depressing that Djinns could only have access to the human world for such a short period of time, but he would savor every last moment. Humming with outright pleasure, Ember pulled out of the Wizard and nudged him towards the tub. Without thinking, Harry sank down to his knees, setting his hands against the edge of the tub. 

“So well trained!” Ember burbled happily as he knelt behind the Wizard, splaying his legs apart with his hands. Leering at the enticing picture of his fireflower bent over, legs spread wide for his use, Ember aligned himself and savagely buried himself inside Harry. 

Biting back a scream, Harry could taste blood and belatedly realized he had bitten his tongue. Ember was completely oblivious, happily enjoying himself as he pounded his way into release. Dazed from the unrelenting pain, Harry did not react as his insides were coated with fiery wetness. He also did not react as Ember pulled out and gleefully lapped up the mixture of blood and his own seed from Harry’s raw and aching hole. 

‘Ah, this was truly heaven!’ Ember thought, how he would miss it next month after having gotten so used to fucking his sweet fireflower bloody once a month for over two years. 

Glancing at his pet, Ember was rather disappointed to find the Wizard sprawled against the side of the tub unconscious and still bleeding. With a sigh, Ember glanced around the room until he found the small jar of yellow cream one of the Dark Lord’s minions had made to help the pet better handle servicing a Djinn lover. Since discovering how much damage the Djinn caused, the Dark Lord had insisted, rather harshly, that Ember use the cream or risk owing the Dark Lord more favors. Luckily as long as the cream was used and the jar had been touched by Ember, the Dark Lord knew no differently whether it was applied before or after sex. 

Twisting the lid off, Ember stuck his fingers into the cream and then began applying it to his fireflower’s bleeding hole. The mix of cream and blood soon had his hands covered in a sticky orange mess. Annoyed by it, Ember did the next best thing and after applying the medicinal cream to his eager cock, enjoyed a slow satisfying fuck. The only shame was that his pet made no pleasing noises but when he pulled out he was happy to note that the cream had been thoroughly applied and his fireflower was in no danger. 

Smirking, Ember wished he had the patience to see his pet’s reaction when he woke and could barely move. Quickly washing his hands in the sink, Ember walked over to the nearby shelf and plucked a glass jar filled with green bath pellets. Setting it on the edge of the tub, Ember snickered as he placed a Djinn spell on the water, keeping it heated for later use. Moving the Wizard away from the tub and onto the floor, Ember gave him a final affectionate kiss and then vanished.

* * *

When Harry finally came to his senses two hours later, he found himself sprawled on his stomach in the middle of his bathroom. Slowly moving into an upright position, he hissed at the dull stabbing pain coming from his backside and lower spine. A quick look around the room showed that Ember had long since gone; leaving nothing behind or out of place except for a familiar empty jar and a glass jar of green pellets sitting on the edge of the tub. Slowly crawling to the side of the tub, Harry opened the top of the jar and tossed in a fistful of pellets. They fizzed as they dissolved into the magically heated water, giving the liquid a pale green sheen. 

Cursing softly, Harry managed to crawl into the tub, letting the now potion treated water do what it could to ease the remaining damage leftover from the Djinn’s coupling. And people envied his life…if only they knew the weird and oftentimes, painful things he had to put up with.

* * *

Two hours later, Harry had finished drying himself off, applying the necessary Healing Charms and drinking the disgusting Potions Snape supplied him with on the rare occasions when Ember decided to visit. Shrugging on the bathrobe, Harry tied the belt shut and then headed into his closet to put on some clothes. Stifling a yawn, Harry rummaged through the dresser, pulling out boxers and socks before untying the robe and pulling on the boxers and socks. Walking over to the rack, he began looking through his assortment of casual jeans, choosing a pair of light blue jeans. A stop at the next rack and he pulled on a plan white t-shirt. Checking his appearance in the mirror, Harry looked himself over. 

He had grown to be about 5’7 and though he was shorter than Ron, he was still taller than he’d expected to be what with ten years of malnutrition living with the Dursleys. Faint scars were scattered across his body, mementos of duels with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. His skin had lost its slightly tanned appearance an unsurprising development considering the hours he had been keeping for the past several years. Fortunately, he had corrected his eyesight long ago, so he was no longer dependant on his glasses. Wryly, Harry touched the jagged scar that ran from his left cheekbone, across his nose and right eye before ending at the tip of his right temple. Had he worn glasses, he might have been saved a bit of damage from that stray Cutting Hex. 

Eyes still a remarkably bright shade of green and his nose slightly crooked thanks to a nice punch from that grunt Goyle, Harry still looked much like he had years ago, if only older and more wearied. The only thing that made him stand out was his hair. His formerly unruly, untamable hair was no longer completely raven’s wing black. Thick locks of white hair had begun forming nearly three and a half years ago. The process now accelerating due to what he now referred to as the Incident, a little less than six months after the first lock of white began appearing in his shoulder length hair. 

Twisting in front of the mirror, Harry noted that he had only a few locks of black left and the white well…it wasn’t exactly pure white anymore for that matter. Pre-Incident, yeah it had been white but Post-Incident and well…it was subtly shifting. At first it began to take on a grayish highlight and now it was a sort of smoky blue-gray. It gave him a downright spooky appearance and he’d heard more than a few older Witches and Wizards whispering about ‘old myths’. Snorting slightly as he ran his hand through the silken hair, Harry tried not to think about why his hair was the way it was. He’d like nothing better than to forget the Incident, thanks very much. 

Satisfied with his appearance, Harry headed out of his room and into the hallway. Turning right, he headed past his private office and took the other staircase down. Arriving near the Small Dining Room, Harry headed towards the Dining Hall, knowing the House elves would have a fit if he decided to fix himself a late breakfast. Greeting portraits of his deceased family, Harry pushed open the massive double doors that lead to the Dining Hall. It was a large sunny room, with a grand table that easily sat thirty comfortably. Moving across the room he took a seat at the head of the table and waited for one of the House elves to arrive and inquire about what he’d like to eat. 

Totty appeared and took his order, casting him a sympathetic look before popping back to the kitchen. Harry rubbed his face; it was bad when even the House elves knew what it meant when you ordered your favorite comfort foods. Though no one spoke of it in the house, every House elf and Portrait knew exactly what was going on. Harry had seen the worried glint in his mother’s eyes, the slightly narrowed eyes of his father and Sirius’s slight scowl. The Incident and its repercussions were the first dirty secret the Potter Cottage kept and Harry didn’t know quite what to think of it or himself for that matter. 

A mug of hot chocolate appeared on the table in front of him, filled to the brim. He had barely brought the mug to his lips before a silver pot appeared on the table, containing more of the sweet brew. It was mid June but Harry didn’t care, this was exactly what he needed. Savoring the rich brew, he sighed and almost could forget what had happened earlier in the bathroom. About ten minutes later the rest of his breakfast appeared, a plate of fresh waffles, a bowl of freshly cut strawberries and blueberries, an omelet topped with cheese, ham and diced tomatoes. 

Harry had just finished his fruit covered waffles when Totty popped back into the room, looking highly distressed.

“Mr. Wheezy and Miss. ‘Mione are here! Totty tries to tell them Master wants no guests but they come through fireplace!” Totty cried out pulling on her long, drooping ears. 

Harry sighed; he really didn’t want company now of all times but Ron and Hermione never barged into his house without reason…usually. “It’s alright Totty, why don’t you fetch a pot of tea?” 

Totty curtsied and then vanished, leaving Harry alone to face his friends.

* * *

Several hours later, Remus found Harry sprawled on the grass next to the northern-most side of the large lake behind Potter Cottage. Smiling at the sight of his adopted Godson lying on the grass, dozing as his body absorbed the warm summer sun, Remus was loathe to disturb the younger man. The time Harry had to himself became less and less with each passing year, the Light relied heavily upon Harry and as such, he had little time to do more than eat and sleep. With the War raging with almost no end in sight, it was hard to find a moment’s peace and harder still to keep up Harry’s spirits. A blind man could see how frustrated Harry was becoming as the weeks passed on. Remus and Harry’s closest friends attempted to buffer Harry from the harsh criticism of the Wizarding World but it was clear that their attempts were failing. 

Outwardly, Harry acted like what he believed the others needed to see, he was confident and selfless, doing all that he could to fight off the Death Eaters and attempt to outwit Voldemort himself. Yet Remus could sense the inner turmoil the younger Wizard felt and occasionally, Remus spotted small physical expressions of Harry’s sinking spirits. It had started about a year and a half ago, as nothing more than a shadow in Harry’s bright green eyes but slowly it had begun to spread. Now it was all they could do to coax a smile or even a chuckle from him in private and the shadows in his eyes had turned into a downright, eerie emptiness. 

At first the slow changes had barely been commented upon but then Harry had been attacked, almost a year ago by Fenrir Greyback. It had taken him three hours but Harry had dragged himself through the Forbidden Forest and onto the Hogwarts grounds where he had been discovered by Hagrid and rushed to the Infirmary. Bleeding from scratches and two distinct Bites, Madame Pomfrey had declared it a miracle that Harry had even managed to drag himself back to Hogwarts in such a condition. The Order had been called and everyone was shaken, how would Harry fight Voldemort with such a condition? Remus had quickly sunk into despair upon finding out what had happened to the boy Sirius had entrusted to him. Though he could not legally be Harry’s Godfather, most of the Wizarding World knew that unofficially Harry called him Godfather and acknowledged him as such. 

Dumbledore had been the one to pull everyone together. Harry was still the Prophecy Child and Harry was still himself, Bite or no Bite. The most important thing was ensuring that Harry survived the encounter with Fenrir, not what would happen during the next full moon. It had been a slow recovery and a chancy thing more than once but Harry had pulled through and made a full recovery. Madam Pomfrey had been able to Heal all the minor injuries leaving not even the slightest scar but, as Remus already knew, there was nothing that could lessen the scarring of the Bites. Harry had been quiet about that subject, idly tracing the scars on his right ankle and left hip. 

The remaining week before the full moon was filled with nervous tension as the Order prepared a safe place for Harry’s first Transformation. As Remus was forced to shift into a Werewolf as the moon began to rise, Harry had simply sprawled on his back and basked under the light of the moon remaining completely human. Dumbledore had gaped outright, Madam Pomfrey had stammered incoherently and Snape just looked at Harry thoughtfully, as though he was attempting to assemble an intricate puzzle and had just now found a vital piece. Remus had approached him as a wolf, bewildered and attempting to understand what could have caused such a strange reaction or lack thereof. Looking apologetic, Remus had begun sniffing Harry and was quite startled at the strange smell permeating from the younger Wizard. Normally Harry smelled like ozone and mint but now he smelled distinctly like burnt sand, which was altogether, a strange scent. 

Dumbledore asked Harry a question but Harry seemingly was oblivious to his presence, ignoring them in favor of finding the best place to bask in the glow of the moon. Remus found this behavior alarming and even as much as he prodded and nudged, Harry would not move and would not respond. It wasn’t until the moon set in the early hours of the morning; while Remus had changed back into his human form that Harry began to stir from his position. 

Harry sat up, blinked several times and for the first time since the moon had risen, spoke. “It’s easier to be a wolf, ironic isn’t it?” 

Before Remus could even respond to Harry’s comment, Snape and Dumbledore flanked Harry and guided him into Hogwarts for a thorough round of tests. Madame Pomfrey had him stupefied before his brain even caught on to what was going on. 

Yet even with all the tests, they could not find a reason to explain why Harry did not Transform during the Full Moon. It was clear he was affected by the Werewolf Bites as he now had more lupine senses but other than that and the strange, oblivious rapture the full moon had on him, Harry was fairly normal, well as normal as he ever was. As the months had passed by, Remus had become more and more worried about Harry’s well being wondering if his sudden depression was caused by his reaction to the Werewolf Bites or something more insidious. 

“Harry?” 

Eyelids fluttered open revealing sleepy green eyes, “Remus?” 

“How are you feeling today?” Remus asked, slowly taking a seat a few feet away from him. 

Harry yawned and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “Tired, I didn’t get much sleep today.” 

“I heard Ron and Hermione had one of their fights here this morning.” 

“Please don’t remind me! I don’t think my ears have recovered from their shouting.” 

Remus chuckled, “Oh I know, I’ve walked in on their arguments more times than I’d care to.” 

Harry smiled and they stared out at the lake in companionable silence.

“You really didn’t have to come all the way out here just to check up on me,” Harry said at last. “I’ve always been fine on my own on the nights of the Full Moon.” 

“I know but I feel better if I check up on you, we’re pack you realize?” Remus answered softly. “Siblings of a sort even, since Fenrir Turned both of us.” 

Harry shivered at the mention of the crazed Alpha wolf. “Fenrir’s pups…I wonder if he’s ever had real ones?” 

“He’s tried more than once from what I recall but none of them made it to full term, there’s never been a bitch who could handle the strain.” 

“Not…surprising.” Harry murmured eyes closed. Even the warmth of the last rays of sunlight couldn’t dispel the sudden numbness in his heart; oh he had seen those experiments first hand. They were gruesome but what else could be expected from such an animalistic man? 

Remus touched his shoulder, causing Harry’s eyes to snap open as he scrambled backward from surprise. “I should go; I’ll see you in a few days alright?” 

“Yes,” Harry agreed, willing his heartbeat to slow. “Be safe, Remus.” 

“You too,” Remus replied slowly getting to his feet and walking away. He paused upon reaching the small footbridge built over the deep stream that fed the lake and gazed back. Harry was staring at the lake with his knees drawn up to his chest, his arms wrapped around them. His vulnerable posture had Remus despairing about what had happened to cause Harry to turn into this somber, depressed…creature. The wind blew, catching Harry’s loose hair and sending it swirling around his head and Remus almost swore the tendrils of wind were almost…comforting Harry.

* * *

Voldemort was nearly growling with impatience as he waited for his beautiful lover to arrive. Though it had been two and a half years, very few of his Death Eaters knew what Potter meant to him, only that he no longer was a threat to Voldemort’s plans. Only Severus, Lucius, Rodolphus and Draco knew differently and even then, only Severus knew the truth of the matter. In the eyes of the three Purebloods, Potter was nothing more than a means to winning the War and putting the would-be-Savior in his proper place.

Despite what foolishness some of his Death Eaters spouted, Voldemort had no intention of killing those with Magical ability. To restore the Wizarding population to healthy numbers, they would need every able bodied Wizard and Witch to be paired and produce healthy children. Even the most proud and haughty Purebloods had come to realize over the years that keeping their blood pure was destroying the magical talent that ran through their Families. If Voldemort had not staked his claim to Potter, a minor war would have broken out within the ranks of his army over who had the right to the Halfblooded Savior. 

Now if he could only convince Potter that the best thing for the Wizarding World would be for him to yield to the inevitable, Voldemort would be able to deploy the final strike and claim victory. However Potter had all the traits of a storybook Hero: the childhood filled with adversity and lack of emotional support, a stubbornness rivaling a donkey’s to do ‘good’ and help the weak, and the bravery/attitude to face down the most dangerous situations with a clear head and no second thoughts. 

It had been two and a half years and Voldemort had made barely any progress with Potter. He would be the first to admit that the first four to six months had probably not made the best impression; he had been so pleased to have staked his claim on the powerful Wizard in such a satisfyingly permanent way, that he had acted like a bull in rut. Potter no doubt had enough memories of Voldemort’s rather rough passions to classify every summons to his bed as torture to be endured with heroic aplomb. The situation dismayed Voldemort to a large extent; half of winning the War relied on Potter being happy and supportive of the new regime. 

Not even a blind, deaf man could be fooled into believing Potter was pleased with the circumstances of his position, if they were introduced. The Savior was clearly depressed and the Light’s moral was sinking with every passing day which both aided and hindered his plans. It was excellent that his enemies had begun to lose hope in claiming victory but Potter’s depression and disinterest in the world was less than promising for Voldemort’s plans. 

Love was a terrifyingly enduring emotion and before making the pact with the Djinn Ember, Voldemort could have happily claimed not to know or understand the emotion. That, however, was not the case now. He, the Dark Lord Voldemort, Scourge of the Wizarding World, was in love with **Harry Potter** no less! 

Oh he should have known really in the beginning, Ember had been nearly crazed with grief and the prospect of getting revenge for his beloved Sprite’s death had been a great source of anticipation. Not only had he damned Potter to a fate the Savior would have ranked next to death, but he had also gained a little revenge on Voldemort in the process. In exchange for forging an unbreakable Bond between the two enemies and using Nagini to spy on Potter, Voldemort had to sacrifice his beloved familiar’s physical body and bear the burden of a double-edged gift. Once he had been assured it wasn’t something that could directly kill him or something that could affect the way his body or magic worked, Voldemort had accepted the terms of the agreement and the rest, as they say, was history. 

Potter was his entirely, his spy and his lover and the price he had paid was small enough that Voldemort could easily say the pact had been the best thing he’d done yet. Victory was assuredly his in due time. Potter was no longer a threat and in fact, had become his greatest asset. He’d easily be rid of the Djinn’s interference in a month’s time. 

Love was an amazing incentive to strive to new and greater heights, as Voldemort had learned. However it was definitely a double-edged weapon as well. He was no longer satisfied with Potter’s body and mind, now he could not be content until the Savior’s affections and love were his and freely given. Voldemort would not settle for anything else and the sooner he could make Potter his in every way imaginable, then the War would be his with the rest of the Wizarding World soon following. It was only a matter of time…

* * *

Snape was waiting for him at the gates. Falling into step next to the older Wizard, Harry pulled the gate shut behind him silently. Neither spoke, they no longer needed to. As was Snape’s custom on these nights, he was dressed in black velvet while Harry had taken to wearing a set of silver robes which hung on his frame loosely, making him seem formless. Wordlessly Snape reached into the outer pocket of his cloak and pulled out a crystal lion figurine and as Harry’s fingers settled on the back of the lion, the Port-Key activated. 

They reappeared on the stoop of a cottage hidden away in a dense forest. After glancing around at their surroundings, Snape left as silently as they had arrived. Harry looked up at the moon and with a sigh, moved forward opening the door and slipping inside. The cottage was furnished luxuriously in plush couches and armchairs, elaborately carved shelves and tables and candelabras that had been crafted by the finest metalsmiths. Harry was not fooled by any of it. He knew very well why this place had been furnished like this. It was here that Voldemort would claim him with passionate kisses, heated touches and a night filled with endless pleasure. This place was meant to break him and as the months passed, Harry feared that his legendary endurance was soon to be spent. 

He was exhausted, the years had taken their toll on his mind and he knew that eventually he would begin to loose touch with the world around him. There was nothing more he could do as he already was a prisoner in his own body and mind. No longer could he deceive himself, he was well and truly caught with no sign of escape and he was tired of fighting, exhausted and nearing his limits he only wanted the freedom from this world and the ties that bound him here. 

Harry drew in a ragged breath and once again, somehow managed to shove all his emotions into a small, dark place within him. Slowly releasing his breath, Harry headed towards through the small cottage to the staircase. As silent as a shadow he made his way up the stairs and down the short hallway. A numbness had crept over him with each step closer to his evening’s tormentor and the master of the flesh that now imprisoned him within this world. Stopping at last in front of the double doors that lead into his pleasurable cell, Harry braced himself against what lay behind those doors.

* * *

Voldemort knew the instant they had arrived, the Wards around his retreat shivering slightly. Anticipation and arousal began to unfurl in his body as he waited for Harry to arrive. His eyes scanned the room, making sure that everything was properly in place and ready. It was a comfortable room, decorated in muted blues and greens. There wasn’t much in the way of furniture, just the bed and a few tables. A window overlooked the backyard and a large glass skylight allowed the silver beams of moonlight to spill into the room. 

Footsteps sounded along the wooden hallway and Voldemort smiled with wicked anticipation. How he loved these nights! The taste of Harry’s skin, the smell of his body as it became aroused, the beautiful flush of his skin, the small shivers that bespoke desire and the hot, tight heat that he loved to sink himself into. Making love with Harry was addictive, every time he spent himself within his lover it only made him want him more and more. 

When the footsteps stopped, Voldemort wasted no time and with a Wandless spell the doors swung open. For a moment their eyes met and then Voldemort felt something in his chest lurch at the sight of those empty green eyes. This was not the Harry he had wanted in his bed and in his life. The vision of beauty standing in his doorway lacked the passion and expression of a living being and the sight pained Voldemort like no wound in his previous memory had. He could not claim to know how one was supposed to treat someone they loved but Voldemort had a good idea that this probably was not the way. Ambition had clouded his mind and allowed this deterioration continue but there was still one chance, one final hope to draw Harry back into this world and back into his life. 

Failure was not an option. 

Moving forward, he drew the younger man into the room and shut the doors behind him. Standing in the center of the room Harry looked like a statue he was so untouchable, so unreachable and Voldemort knew that he could reach him, draw him back out of the dark place he’d sunk in.

“Harry…you are more stubborn than the mountains. You would rather let the wind and water wear away at you than yield to the inevitable.” Voldemort murmured as he pressed a kiss behind Harry’s ear. “And I’m a fool for letting you become like this. Can you forgive a fool?” 

An emotion flitted in Harry’s eyes and Voldemort took that as a sign. Tenderly he began to undress Harry, pausing every so often to press soft affectionate kisses on the pale skin he unrevealed. Once Harry was stripped, Voldemort took a minute to admire his scar covered body. 

“You wear your scars like the proverbial ‘badge of honor’. I’ve always admired that about you. No matter the pain, no matter the horrors of battle, you always go back. When you fight, you fight with everything you have and every shred of your being. That passion was what drew me to you.” Voldemort commented as he maneuvered Harry to the bed while kissing his way up Harry’s collarbone to his lips. 

Savoring the taste of Harry’s lips, Voldemort traced his tongue gently on his lips until Harry reluctantly opened his mouth and allowed him access. Sliding his tongue into the wet cavern, Voldemort mapped Harry’s mouth with his tongue before drawing back. As much as he loved the unique taste of Harry, he would rather leave marks of his possession and love on his body. 

“I never get enough of you and I doubt I ever will…” 

Kissing his way down Harry’s jaw and neck, he stopped to nibble at the junction where shoulder and neck met. Sucking gently, Voldemort marveled at the red marks left behind as he worked his way down Harry’s chest. He could taste Harry and the remaining essence of the herbal soap Harry used. Intoxicated by the taste and smell of his lover, Voldemort pulled back for a moment to pull at the silken belt holding the loose night robe he wore off. Groaning softly at the sensation of warm skin pressing against warm skin, Voldemort gazed into Harry’s eyes. 

“How my Death Eaters would laugh if they only knew what you could do to me. This passion I have for you is like nothing I’ve ever experienced, it drowns me in pleasure and pain so sharp I think I may die without you.” 

Tongue circling Harry’s nipple, Voldemort felt Harry’s body beginning to respond to his efforts and he could feel the heartbeat racing under his fingertips. Gently biting at the erect nipple, Voldemort was rewarded with a soft moan. Finally, he was making progress! He lavished the same attention on Harry’s other nipple and then kissed and licked his way down to Harry’s navel. 

“You make me lose control of myself and I hate it sometimes but I can’t help myself. I love the way you taste…the way you smell…the noises you make…and the way losing myself in you is like heaven on earth. I want you so badly.” 

Dipping his tongue in and out of Harry’s navel, Voldemort gave him a paltry imitation of what he’d much rather be doing but first, he had to make Harry answer him. He had to see the spark of life in Harry’s eyes. Any release he found before that would be worthless and unsatisfying. Voldemort wanted to make Harry moan and beg, he wanted to hear Harry accept the fate Ember had bound them both to but most of all he wanted desperately to have Harry be as needy for him as he was for Harry. 

Without another word he moved down Harry’s body, pausing to leave a trail of wet kisses as he reached his prize. Glancing up into emerald eyes, he smiled mischievously before he slowly trailed his tongue up along the underside of Harry’s cock. To his obvious pleasure, Harry snapped back to awareness just as he took Harry’s cock into his mouth. A startled choking noise spurred him on as he let Harry’s hard cock go before swiftly drawing it back into his mouth deeper than before. While he pleasured Harry with his mouth, Voldemort cast a few unobtrusive Cleaning and Lubrication Charms before tracing his hands down along his thighs. Gently spreading Harry’s legs, he teasingly searched for the puckered opening hidden between the clefts of Harry’s bottom. 

Deftly sliding two fingers into the tight opening, Voldemort slowly pushed them as far in as they would go before scissoring them. When Harry had adjusted to two fingers he added a third and at Harry’s breathless stutters for more, lightly caressed Harry’s prostate. With a long moan, Harry came in his mouth and Voldemort swallowed the bitter liquid as he prepared his lover with his fingers. Releasing Harry’s flaccid cock, Voldemort pulled back and raised himself up a little so he could meet Harry’s eyes. The younger Wizard, however, had closed his eyes and moved his head aside, staring at the wall as he collected himself. 

“Harry, look at me.” Voldemort ordered softly and was surprised when Harry turned to look at him, his face wet with tears. “Why are you crying?” 

Closing his eyes, Harry drew a shuddering breath. “Isn’t this enough for you? You’ve already taken everything that I once was, why do you have to have what’s left of me as well?” 

Voldemort blinked at the rather unexpected questions and after a moment’s pondering, smiled hesitantly. “I…suppose it’s just the way I am. Would you believe me if I told you this wasn’t quite what I had intended from the beginning?” 

“I’d hope not!” Harry choked out, wiping at his eyes. “The last two years have been nothing but misery for me.” 

“It wasn’t much better for me either,” Voldemort admitted. “Ember said that using Nagini as I have would cost me something precious but what I feel for you, I never would have thought that would be the price for this…mess.” 

Harry shook his head, still crying silently. “What did you want then?”

Voldemort shifted to a more comfortable position between Harry’s legs, his fingers still buried deep within the younger Wizard. “I wanted to win of course; I’ve wanted to change the Wizarding World for so long that it’s all I see. At first, cowing you was just a way to accomplish things faster and later I realized that if you could agree in the public just to come to terms, there would be less bloodshed. I have few regrets about killing, this is war and people die in war but even I do not want this war to go on for so long that there’s no one left to rebuild when all is done. You are the key, you always have been even if the rest of the Wizarding World didn’t acknowledge you as such. Through you, I can achieve a bloodless victory and that is what I strive for now.” 

“Then why did you bother saying all these things tonight?” Harry demanded, eyes blazing with a mixture of rage and humiliation. 

“Because I’m tired of your struggling and I don’t want to see you again like I saw you tonight. You looked like you’d been Kissed by a Dementor. I may not have made the pact with Ember knowing I was going to love you but I can’t deny what I feel for you any longer. There’s always been something about you that was appealing, always something I had to admire even when I claimed to hate you. We’re both tired of the War, of all the fighting and dying. If we could come to terms, you and I, and convince the people that have fought with us both, we could have that bloodless victory. Imagine it Harry…” Voldemort emphasized his point by shifting his fingers and brushing them against that sensitive spot. 

Harry gasped and twitched, “Dirty…Slytherin tactics.” 

“We’re a persuasive bunch,” Voldemort purred as he continued his ministrations. “You can’t admit you don’t enjoy this or that you don’t look forward to this night either. Think about what I’ve just told you, Harry. The Light does not need to know that I’ve been using you to spy if that’s what you’d like. I can’t give this up though, I love you too much and I need this far more than I should.” 

Removing his fingers, Voldemort carefully positioned himself and carefully thrust forward. Harry gasped at the intrusion and his consideration of Voldemort’s words soon fled his mind as pleasure pulsed through his body. Seeing Harry’s distraction, Voldemort smirked and bent forward, kissing him gently as he continued to push deeper. When he was fully sheathed, Voldemort allowed Harry a few minutes to adjust to his presence while he continued to convince him. 

“Harry even before Nagini took up residence in your mind; I knew that part of the reason why you fight is because you feel you must. Considering how you were exposed to the Wizarding World, I have little doubt that the majority of your desire to fight against me was influenced by their hero worship. The Wizarding World is not populated by a few, had they all banded together against me, I would not have stood a chance. They are cowards and most would rather someone else dirty their hands and risk their lives than doing so themselves. I know what they’ve been saying about you, that you’re a failure but you must realize that if they had wanted you to succeed they would have done more to help you. One man against an army can do very little.” 

And before Harry could form a reply Voldemort began to move and he, once again, lost his train of thought. Though part of him hated the fact that he derived pleasure from these encounters, Harry had little choice but to yield to the inevitable. Voldemort knew his body well and if he was in a particularly mischievous or lusty mood, enjoyed seeing how many times he could cause Harry to orgasm in a night. For now he would yield to the pleasure Voldemort would give him but later, he would have to make a decision. 

As much as he had wanted to bury the past and ignore the future, time was running short and it would not be long before Voldemort chose to execute his masterstroke. He had given Harry a choice and Harry would have to decide which was better: allowing the Wizarding World to view him as a traitor blindly trapped in Voldemort’s web or as a coward too war weary to fight any longer.

* * *

What Harry didn’t know was that the choice would be taken out of his hands within the span of a month and the cause would lie solely on the damning Incident that had started everything…

* * *

**To Be Continued in Chapter Two: Surrender**

________________________________________

This fanfic definitely had a different kind of mood and I struggled to write some parts of it. More will be explained in the next chapter so please be patient.

Do let me know what you think of it!

-SheWolfe7 (4/7/06)


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